


Inherent Foibles

by Catminty



Series: Squee Spree [3]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, Gen, Sparklings, Squee, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-17
Updated: 2013-03-17
Packaged: 2017-12-05 13:56:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/724042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catminty/pseuds/Catminty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ratchet performs triage. Starscream reluctantly assists.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inherent Foibles

**Author's Note:**

> As promised! Prompt from tf-rare-pairing: Ratchet and Starscream - "I can fix it!"

A frustrated shriek accompanied a loud clatter when a datapad was thrown viscously across the room. Starscream was furious. Those humans! They know not what they've done!

He collapsed onto the floor to cradle his throbbing helm. It was irreversible. More than half of the remaining Cybertronians left on this back-aftwards planet were converted.

To sparklings.

Tiny, uncoordinated pedsteps echoed from the hallway. Speaking of weak and pathetic... Starscream glared up just in time to see a questing sparkling enter the room. The little mech stopped just inside to run a haphazard scan of the room's contents. What was this one doing away from the others? A chubby faceplate scrunched, brows furrowed in deep concentration, as the scan data was processed. Then, supposedly finding what he was looking for, a red and white sparkling smiled and trotted inside, a small something dragging along after him.

What was he doing? Starscream snuck quietly around a piece of equipment to observe the determined little one as he bravely tugged open a tall cabinet. 

Only to get buried alive in a waterfall of random items and parts.

Starscream was at the pile faster than he could process the disaster to unbury the wayward sparkling. Pieces of debris were frantically picked away until a very un-sparkling like yell came muffled from the pile.

"Swaggit!!"

The seeker froze in shock. What were they teaching the younglings?! He gingerly picked his way through the pile to reveal a scuffed up, shrunken Ratchet. Several rapid fire scans revealed only scrapes and minor dents, meaning it was probably nothing, something self-repairs would take care of eventually. Thank Primus.

A guiding servo helped the mechling to his peds. Chubby palms scrubbed viscously at blue optics to stave off the flow of tears. "That's what happens when you stick your nasal ridge where it's not supposed to go," Starscream scolded. 

The sparkling didn't pay attention. Resolve supposedly strengthened, he busily scanned ground zero for something. Tiny sirens bleeped out a distressed 'Whoop, whoop!' as the little one clambered over the pile to pull out a half-buried item.

It was... Red optics brightened in shock. A small cloth doll was pulled out by frantic little servos. Its arm was ripped off, stuffing poofing out in an obscene display of morality. The missing appendage was nowhere in sight. 

Oddly enough, the sparkling didn't break down to tears like most would do in such a situation. Instead, a focused look settled strongly on the plump faceplate. The kneeling seeker was shocked further when a red servo wrapped firmly around two of his digits and firmly pulled. "No," Starscream tried to reclaim his servo. "We need to have Hook look you over."

That wasn't what the little one wanted to hear. Ratchet stomped his ped in frustration, but wilted slightly in obvious pain. Closer inspection revealed that his leg was slightly damaged. "That's it! We're going to Hook! Now!" The seeker scooped up the struggling sparkling.

"No!" The little red and white frame wiggled and shimmied in an attempt to get down, all the while cradling the doll to his chestplate. 

An angry fist pounded on Starscream's cockpit glass. They were almost out of the room, but he took pause. The seeker stared down at the teary yet determined medic and the doll he held so close. Little blue optics glared up, saying the unspoken argument; _'I can fix it!'_

Sigh. Might as well play along.

Starscream set the mechling on a table and stepped back, servos on hips. "Alright, chief medical officer. What do we need?"

Great care was taken to set the cradled doll down in a comfortable position. The little medic ran several scans over the inanimate frame.

Starscream gently tugged the patient's remaining arm only to be swatted away for his efforts. "And just how do you expect us to fix it?"

A few more haphazard scans bounced off Starscream's sensors. He received no response. It seemed that Ratchet was too busy trying to make sense of his complex scans than to try to evaluate the situation. Then again, he might have just been scanning for fun. The seeker rolled his optics and explored some of the drawers in the room. 

"Uh!" Starscream 'blinked' his optics, looking up. Stupid squishy habits were addictive. Accomplishment rolled in waves off Ratchet as he held up a miniature version of his namesake. He thrust it up in the air and barked a laugh, entirely pleased with himself. 

_Sparklings_. Starscream rolled his optics in exasperation. 

Somehow there was a needle and spool of thread hidden amongst the chaos that was called a storage room. Was this where that bolthead Scavenger had been keeping his junk?

He made his way through the piles of trash back to the table, only to find the sparkling doing his best to _twist_ the stuffing with the ratchet. It wasn't working to well for obvious reasons. He looked up at Starscream with a panic-stricken faceplate. It was so pathetic that he dared to call the scene cute.

"I managed to find a suitable welding torch," the seeker droned, playing along as he dutifully threaded the dulled needle. He fussed around the sparkling until the little one sat with the doll in his lap. "Chief medical officer, I need you to keep the patient calm and as still as possible." 

Once again, no response. But when Starscream leaned down and started the "operation," Ratchet held the doll firmly so it would not move.

After a few fumbles, the stuffing was pushed back in and the blunt needle made quick work of sealing the gaping hole shut. It was by no means _pretty_ , but it worked well enough. During the entire operation, little blue optics stared in rapt interest of the going-ons for repair. It was like he had never seen anything like that before. That was quite telling about the retained memories of those that became sparklings...

When all that remained were two long tails of thread, Starscream pulled back.  "Patch it up, medic."

Ratchet stared up, mystified and confused. The seeker smiled softly at the lost look. "We have to tie off the wound. Otherwise he will become damaged again." Starscream held up both ends expectantly. 

The mini-medic stared hesitantly, as if afraid, then puffed up his armor in determination. He snatched up both ends confidently, then paused. Unsure optics flickered back and forth to the end held in each servo. Slowly, Ratchet drew the ends together. He wilted when touching the ends to one another didn't quite give the expected results. 

Starscream covered his mouth to try to smother his giggles. The act was pointless, however, when the little medic pulled out his tool of choice...

And proceeded to smack the doll's helm.

"No, no," Starsceam snickered and pulled the tool back. "We hit them _after_ they're recovered." The seeker tied off the strings for the confused little one and took a step back. 

Ratchet looked up at him expectantly--it was a bit worrisome how eager he was. Either way, Starsceam smirked and nodded.

A 'clang' sounded. Instead of the hit he was expecting, Ratchet did something entirely unexpected: The little red and white medic dropped his ratchet, scooped up his patient, and hugged it lovingly in a suffocating squeeze. 

Starscream smiled at the tender display. "You saved him," he encouraged quietly. "Good job, Ratchet."

There was no response. Something was wrong. Starscream pulled the doll away from the chubby little face that had buried itself to hide. Big tears welled up and poured down the little one's faceplate. Ratchet whimpered softly, a tiny servo clutching at his scuffed leg.

The official report would most definitely _not_ go into detail how Starscream, in a panicked state, tore through the base, kicked down the automatic door to the Constructicons' quarters (yes, _kicked down_ a sliding door), and demanded that they fix the crying sparkling _right that astrosecond_. Nor would it go into detail how Starscream stayed with the little medic until long after he stopped crying. Or how, even to this orn, he almost always checks on Ratchet to make sure he was alright. 

Of course not. A high and mighty Decepticon would never do such a thing.

**Author's Note:**

> A foible is a weakness. Ratchet tends to be a mech that will take care of others before himself even if they don't need treatment as badly as he does. Thus, foible!
> 
> Hurray! I finally sat on something instead of posting it the astrosecond my processor spit it out! Which is a good thing too. It was so much worse before edits. 
> 
> Future fic goal: Improve paragraph structure.


End file.
